Dinner for One
by L J Groundwater
Summary: It's a very special day. Red honors it.


A little late for the day, but the idea is still there... please read and let me know what you think (no I haven't given up on Little Joe, just these one-shots keep coming into my head!)...

*JSTB * JSTB * JSTB * JSTB *

Dressed in a white Robert Graham dress shirt, underwear and socks, Raymond Reddington opened the closet door pulled out a suit bag. He placed it on the bed, then went back into the closet, found a Forzieri shoebox he was looking for, and brought it out, too.

He unzipped the bag very carefully, and slowly, almost reverently, drew out the black Baroni tuxedo that it held. Examining it closely for tears, pulls or marks, he lay all the pieces out with great care beside each other: the two-button notch-style jacket, the lined pants, the cummerbund, the silk bow tie.

He fastened the silk suspenders to the pants, then took off the satin bathrobe he had put on after his shower and drew on the Italian-made trousers, with gentle hands moving the tails of the shirt into place, then zipping up the fly and adjusting the waistband. Then he pulled the suspenders over his shoulders and attached them properly. He picked up the cummerbund, and with skilled hands wrapped it around himself, then fastened it, then he picked up the black bow tie and went into the bathroom.

Blinking once at the bright bulbs around the mirror, he moved toward the sink and wrapped it around his neck. He smiled affectionately as he saw her approach from behind through the mirror, and her hands covered his as he manipulated the bow so it was perfectly centered on his neck. His gentle smile never faded as she brought her hand up and lightly cupped his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch; it was a feeling he would never take for granted. Then he moved back into the bedroom, and she followed.

He put on a pair of gold cufflinks, slipped on his shoes and laced them up, then picked up the jacket. He could feel her hands fixing his collar as he did up the buttons, then his hands covered hers as he straightened the fit. He rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs, felt the soft, smooth skin, thought again about how blessed he was to have her.

He felt a tug on his trouser leg and looked down to see two wide, devoted eyes, long wavy hair and a smile that wanted his attention. He reached down and stroked the little head, and then with a giggle she was gone. Raymond smiled wordlessly, watching her go, then he turned and walked into the dining room.

On the table, adorned with a lace tablecloth, exquisite crystal glasses, and fine bone china, was a wine bucket holding a bottle of 1990 Penfolds Bin 90A Cabernet Shiraz. Raymond pulled it out of the ice and studied the label for a moment, before popping the cork and running the bottle under his nose to breathe in the smoky, sweet, cedar aromas. He nodded approval and appreciation, then carefully poured two glasses and placed one at either end of the table, then sat down at one of the settings, and looked toward the other, his mind now wandering far from here, far from now.

"You are ready for the meal now?" came a voice from the doorway.

Raymond blinked himself out of his reverie and looked over to see Dembe waiting patiently for an answer. "Yes, Dembe," he said, his voice low.

Dembe left the room and returned shortly with his employer's dinner: a mix of top quality steak and divinely prepared vegetables, arranged in a way that had Raymond not known better he would have believed it was prepared in a five-star restaurant and smuggled in to the house. Dembe put the plate in front of Raymond, glanced toward the other setting, at which Raymond was staring, unblinking, and asked, "You are all right tonight, Raymond?"

"I'm fine, Dembe. Thank you."

And with no other words, Dembe left as planned.

For the longest time, Raymond simply sat, looking at the empty seat across from him. Seeing her playing with his tie, feeling her touching his face, watching as their daughter scampered happily out of the room. Then he picked up his glass, raised it as though to toast with her, and said, his voice rough with suppressed emotion, "Happy Valentine's Day. You will always be… my one true love."

Then he took one sip of the wine, put down his glass, and walked away.


End file.
